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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26529097">Two Halves of a Whole</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlestarling/pseuds/alittlestarling'>alittlestarling</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Two Sisters AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Detective and sister relationship, F/M, Family Problems, Gen, Rating for later chapters, Rebecca did not make good choices and it SHOWS, Retelling, Siblings, Slow Burn, annoyed at first sight, broken relationships</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:27:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,407</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26529097</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlestarling/pseuds/alittlestarling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurel Jones has been doing just fine without her family in her life. With a mostly absent mother and a half-sister she barely knows, she's made a life in Wayhaven for herself. The newly minted detective finds herself caught in the crosshairs of her world and that of the supernatural when murders begin to dot the landscape and her mother reappears with her agents in tow. Oh, and did she mention, her sister's also come back to town?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Detective/Adam du Mortain, Female Detective/Adam du Mortain, Female Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles), past Female Detective/Bobby Marks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Two Sisters AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026141</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Welcome to my new favorite AU that grabbed me a month ago and hasn't let go of me since!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun has barely begun to rise in the east, casting a dewy glow over the sleepy little town of Wayhaven. It had rained overnight, coating the plants in condensation and changing the concrete to dark color with small impressions from those strong enough to wake before it was strictly necessary. </p><p>Breathing in and out at a steady pace, Laurel Jones pushed herself a little harder than necessary, basking in the crisp coolness that lingered from winter as the seasons began to change with each passing day. It was easier to get out before the sun came up; the streets were blissfully quiet and it gave Laurel a chance to think. Leaving her headphones at her flat, she concentrated on the beat of her heart, matching her pace to it as she conquered one of the many rolling hills that surrounded the township proper.</p><p>Reaching the top, she paused, leaning over slightly to pant out a few uneven breaths, wincing at the soreness she knew she’d be feeling later. Winter had been harsh this last year and Laurel hadn’t pulled herself out of her house on mornings like this, preferring to stay bundled in her cocoon of blankets. She’d be paying the price of pushing too hard, too fast, no matter how much stretching she had done before she left.</p><p>Everything was green from this high up as trees came to life and the grass retained more and more color with each passing day. Stretching her arms over her head, she tilted until she heard a familiar <em>cr</em><em>ack </em>of her neck, sighing with relief. </p><p>There were perks of being the lead detective (well, the <em>only </em>detective) in a smaller community: even with their proximity to Seattle, things never got too out of hand. There were few crimes of any severity beyond shoplifting and the occasional fight down at the local watering hole and, while parts of it remained at a steady pace, Laurel still found herself itching for <em>more </em>. </p><p>Her thoughts were cut off as her phone’s shrill, electronic ringtone interrupted the quiet around her. Cursing, Laurel fumbled into the pocket of her joggers, pulling it out to squint at the screen. A call this early would mean something was wrong and her heart raced at the idea of her morning pulling her into some action.</p><p>“Just you,” Laurel sighed, wrinkling her nose as REBECCA flashed across the screen. There was a moment when she considered if she wanted to answer. Calls from her mother were few and far between these days, but that was just par for the course. Rebecca’s job kept her far from Laurel and there was no lost love as the days, weeks, months and, sometimes, years passed without her hearing much of anything.</p><p><em> If she needs me, she can leave a message. </em> </p><p>Barely hesitating, she simply pushed REJECT on her phone, letting the call roll over to voicemail. </p><p>Shaking her head, Laurel stuffed it back into her pocket, bending to readjust her sneakers before she began the trek back down the hill and towards her home. She needed to wrap up here and shower before she went into work for the day. With one last look out to the view before her, she turned, setting a brutal pace once again.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Douglas, how many times do I have to tell you to put the goddamn phone away?” Laurel rolled her eyes as she stepped into the station, her gaze falling swiftly on the Mayor’s kid with more than a little mild irritation. For his part, Douglas Friedman looked at least a <em> little </em>guilty, struggling to put his phone back into his desk drawer quickly.</p><p>“Oh hi, Detective!” He sat just a little straighter as if puffing himself up might make her forget that this wasn’t the first (or last, she mused) time she’d caught him shirking his duties.</p><p>“Any messages?” Straight to business, Laurel raised a brow as she waited for the younger officer to fill her in. The shake of his head was all she needed as she turned and moved back towards her office. </p><p>It felt strange to have a place where she could close her door and work; being on patrol before meant keeping herself in a small cubicle that she shared with Tina. She missed having someone to bounce ideas off; Tina made every shift melt away and hours never felt long when they were working together. But, with a promotion foisted upon her in the last few months, Laurel had shifted into a detective and that meant running things rather than being the boots on the ground anymore.</p><p>She didn’t say it aloud often, but Laurel missed being proactive in the town, helping to prevent things from happening rather than finding the cause for anything that happened in Wayhaven. Yes, it came with a little more money, but Laurel swore she’d go mad from boredom sooner rather than later.</p><p>Setting her bag down, Laurel left to track down coffee, returning only with her ceramic mug filled to the brim with black coffee. Station coffee wasn’t exactly the height of luxury, not when Douglas continually burned it, but it meant she saved some money on days when she knew better than to indulge too much on grabbing coffee-to-go from Hayley’s. The thought of a strong Americano was enough to make her mouth water but, grimacing with the first sip from her cup, Laurel steeled herself against the urge to dump this and head into town for something better.</p><p>From her bag, her phone buzzed loudly against the folds of her wallet. </p><p>A quick glance and Laurel groaned under her breath. No messages from earlier, but Rebecca was trying again. “Nope.” Booting up her laptop, Laurel made a face at another sip of coffee, settling in to get the paperwork done for the morning so she could free herself up in the afternoon.</p><p>Unfortunately, nothing was ever that simple as her office phone rang. “Detective Jones,” she greeted without any preamble, pausing with a frown as the other line caught her off-guard. “Sorry, there’s been a <em> what </em>?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>From the back of the black SUV, Rebecca sighed, lips pressed in a thin line as she reached Laurel’s voicemail for the second time that morning. She hung up before it could tell her to leave a message, slipping the agency-issued phone back into her purse with little fuss. This wasn’t new, she reminded herself, Laurel had always had her father’s headstrong and stubborn nature ingrained in her from a young age. It didn’t help that she was away so often, but that couldn’t be helped.</p><p>Pressing two manicured nails on the bridge of her nose, she took a deep breath in, held it for a moment, and let it out in a whooshing sigh. </p><p>“Everything alright, Ma’am?” Across from her, Commanding Agent Adam du Mortain watched her with trademark scrutiny. </p><p>Rebecca offered a small smile. “It’s nothing. I was just hoping…” She trailed off a moment, frowning as she glanced out the window. Her reflection stared back, a face she saw mirrored in her daughter more often than not. Pinched features, circles under her eyes even when she felt well-rested, her dark blonde hair falling past her shoulders in layered waves. Shaking her head, she finished, “It’s nothing, really.”</p><p>“We’ll be at the airport soon,” Adam gave a small, curt nod of his head. He paused and Rebecca watched the wheels turning in his head. He’d been her leading agent for years now and, with time, she had slowly learned the many quirks that he (and his fellows) had.</p><p>“Is there something on your mind, Agent du Mortain?” Crossing her ankles, fingers smoothing over her pencil skirt, she let her blue eyes remain fixed on Adam. “You can speak freely, if you’re worried about that.” </p><p>Had her commanding agent been more humorous, Rebecca would have sworn she saw a scoffing snort cross his features. It was brief, flickering across his chiseled features, but it was gone before she could appreciate it. “I’m not worried about that, ma’am.” Straightening in his seat, Adam fixed his gaze ahead of him, considering his words. He was always so careful, something Rebecca appreciated. Some of her other agents didn’t have the same restraint that Adam did, which was both blessing and a curse sometimes.</p><p>“Well?”</p><p>“I have to wonder, ma’am,” Adam began, “if we’re on the right track.” His icy green eyes met hers steadily. “I don’t doubt your instinct, but the evidence feels flimsy. Why would he make his way to a tiny little town?”</p><p>“That’s the mystery,” Rebecca dropped her gaze from him, turning to the window again. “I don’t think anything I say right now will be to your satisfaction, Agent du Mortain.” Not without revealing her hand; she didn’t like keeping her agents in the dark, but she was running on a hunch. If it proved wrong, only she would take the fall for losing their man.</p><p>Across from her, Adam gave a small huff of acceptance, leaning back a little more in his seat. If he suspected she was keeping something from him, he wasn’t saying anything, letting the silence fall between them again. </p><p>The ride wasn’t long from that point on and Rebecca was glad to see the hangar door open for their car when they reached it.</p><p>“Good to see you, Agent Bishop.” There was no surprise that Agent Nate Sewell was the first to reach the car; ever the gentleman, he opened the door for Rebecca, holding a hand for her to take as she exited the vehicle. Adam followed behind her. “How was the ride?”</p><p>“Uneventful, thankfully.” Rebecca turned, nodding to the driver as he went to gather their bags. “Where are the other two?” </p><p>As if summoned by the command alone, Agent Felix Hauville and Specialist Agent Mason come into focus. Felix, for his part, was quick to raise a hand in greeting, a grin spreading quickly across his features. Mason, in turn, sank back into his usual cloud of smoke, giving a small, perfunctory nod in her direction.</p><p>“Where to this time?” Nate asked, genuine curiosity coloring his voice.</p><p>Rebecca paused, pulling her phone out again, trying to keep her own disappointment from showing when all she saw was her lock screen. Straightening her shoulders, she looked at the vampires before her. “Wayhaven.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A murder.</p>
<p>A murder in <em> Wayhaven </em>of all places.</p>
<p>All, of course, with clues that made absolutely <em>no </em>sense to her. This was the first <em>big </em>case that she was running and, thus far, she wasn’t exactly making any big revelations in things.</p>
<p>Laurel pressed her fingers into the bridge of her nose as she parked at the station, trying to ignore the pounding in her temples. Nothing happened in this place; the most exciting thing she’d thought she’d be looking forward to was creative vandalism or maybe some shoplifting from more unusual suspects.</p>
<p>Not a dead body in an alley, ripped apart and staring up at the sky with glassy eyes.</p>
<p>Her stomach turned as she forced her mind away from the mental image. Better to focus on the details that were running rampant in her mind, taking one more moment to breathe in and out as she finally pocketed her keys and stepped back into the evening air. The details, of course, were just as confounding as the murder itself, puzzling through the information Verda had already given her about the victim.</p>
<p><em> Janet</em>, Laurel reminded herself. She’d been a person, even though she was dead now.</p>
<p>Her phone buzzed against her thigh, but Laurel kept it in her pocket, deciding to check it when she got indoors. It looked like rain was coming in and she didn’t want to get caught without an umbrella. </p>
<p>The usual noise that echoed across the small station was dimmed, as most of the hourly employees from the day shift had long since clocked out for the day. As much as she missed being in the thick of things, there was some small comfort to get work done when she knew she wouldn’t get bothered too much. </p>
<p>“Uh, detective, there’s someone here to see you.” The night volunteer called out the moment Laurel came into view of the front desk. She swore under her breath, already thinking of the handful of people who might be sliding into her station to breathe down her neck. </p>
<p>“Thanks,” she murmured, moving past them as she stepped towards her office door. It had been opened already, but it took a few more steps before Laurel could step into the doorway, pausing when she saw who it was.</p>
<p>“You should really get some plants in here besides this lonely little fern.” Tilting to look over her shoulder, Clare Bishop offered a genuine smile even as Laurel stiffened.</p>
<p>“When did you get to town?” </p>
<p>“No hello for me?” Her accent was strange to hear on American soil, the lilting British that came naturally for her sounding like a dissonant chord to Laurel. “Mum said she tried reaching you earlier, to let you know I was coming in.” </p>
<p>It was easy for Laurel to spot the differences between them rather than the similarities. Clare was softer in so many ways, from the way she dressed to how she reacted to the world. Her light blonde hair fell past her shoulders in soft, romantic waves, big blue eyes a direct reflection of their shared mother. Unlike Laurel, Clare had been given a childhood, with doting grandparents across the sea and their visits to the states were few and far between. Honestly, Clare was more stranger than sister, no matter how little blood they shared.</p>
<p>“I’ve been busy,” Laurel grumbled, moving past Clare to sit down at her desk. “I have an actual job to do.”</p>
<p>Clare gave a small huff and Laurel glanced up just in time to catch a rare eye roll from her prim and proper sister. “I <em> have </em> a job, Laurel, I don’t just sit around and sip tea all day.”</p>
<p>“Coulda fooled me.” Muttering under her breath as she typed in her password, Laurel turned her focus on the screen. “Look, I swear I have things to do. I’m not here for fun.”</p>
<p>“When did I say you were?” There was a shuffling and movement caught Laurel’s attention as Clare settled down in the seat across from her desk. “I know you’re busy, but I just wanted to-”</p>
<p>“Whatever it is, can it wait until morning?” Laurel regretted the harshness of her tone as she caught a hurt look flashing across Clare’s face. It was brief, though, hardening herself as she turned back to her computer. “I just have a lead to check out and I need to go now before it gets later.” </p>
<p>“Yeah, sure, of course.” There was no denying the deflated tone Clare took as she stood, still offering a cheery little smile. Always with the politeness and niceties, something Laurel knew she’d never have. “I’ll just...I’ll see you tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, sure.” Laurel peeked over her monitor to watch her sister step outside the office, letting go of a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Why was Clare in town to begin with? The last time either of them had been together was over three years ago, back when Clare had gotten engaged to some fellow named Liam MacAlistair. Even that had been forced as Laurel had tried to smile through the gathering of people she barely knew and swallowing bitterness over how <em>normal </em> Clare’s life was compared to her own.</p>
<p>“Ugh, stop it.” Chastising herself, Laurel shook her head, locking her computer as she grabbed her gear, checking that her door was locked as she stepped back out. It didn’t matter what had happened in the past; she had tried again and again to let it go, but it kept appearing, a reminder of old hurts and wounds that ran too deep for her to even contemplate. Whatever her half-sister was doing here was none of her business. It’d be easier to deal with in the morning, regardless.</p>
<p>“I’m checking out a lead,” Laurel paused by the front desk, rapping her knuckles against the fake wood. “Call me over the radio if anything new comes in.”</p>
<p>“Sure thing, Detective.”</p>
<p>Checking for her gun and pepper spray, Laurel booked it to her hatchback. The warehouse wasn’t too far; even with the darkness growing, she could at least take a preliminary sweep of the place and gather some evidence, if there was any.</p>
<p>Her phone buzzed again and, with defiance at the front of her mind, Laurel turned it off. Rebecca could leave an actual message this time as, shifting into gear, she took off down the road, her mind focused on her job rather than her family.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey mum, it’s me,” Clare had barely made it out the front door before she went fishing in the pockets of her coat, pulling her mobile out and dialing the first number on her recent calls. “I hope it’s not too late, but I figured I’d just...call and say hi?” She cringed slightly, shaking her head. “I know you’re not going to be in town until tomorrow, but give me a ring when you get here?”</p>
<p>Glancing up to the full moon, Clare sighed. “Anyways, I’m sure I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye.” </p>
<p>Technically, Clare had been here almost a full week, settling into the little house she and Liam were renting not far from the town square. It was close enough that she could walk from the station; it was quite pretty in the moonlight, reminding her of early spring evenings back in Oxford. Water dripped from leaves, some partially frozen, as her breath puffed to make small clouds in the air before her.</p>
<p>Really, it had been fear keeping her from seeking out Laurel. Between the two of them, Laurel had always been the one with sharper edges, often tearing into Clare without realizing it when they had spent time together as children. </p>
<p>“You’re like the sun and moon, darling,” their mother had told Clare once when she’d come to her with tears in her eyes. “You’re both different, but that doesn’t make you any less sisters.” </p>
<p>That didn’t mean they were close, either, even with shared blood ties. </p>
<p><em> Had </em>they made the right choice in coming here?</p>
<p>Doubt wasn’t something Clare could easily shake, crossing her arms as she turned down the nearest street, following a well-worn path to home. Her phone gave another trilling noise, the text tone already causing her to smile as she glanced at the screen again.</p>
<p>
  <em> Are you coming home soon? xx </em>
</p>
<p>Perhaps he had been the greatest surprise of all, her goofy smile remaining as she typed a quick response, letting him know she was on the way. Liam had been in her chemistry class back in Oxford, charming her more than she could have ever anticipated. Thank god for him, too, otherwise, Clare knew she’d have gone insane already with the move.</p>
<p>He’d been so supportive, so eager to let her dictate where they go so she could make up for some lost time. “It’s not every day that you have the chance to live close to your mom and your sister.” He knew about her history with them and, rather than ask too many questions, he simply acted as her rock, a port in the storm of her emotions surrounding them both. Clare knew he’d be in her corner if anything went awry here.</p>
<p>Out of the corner of her eye, Clare swore she saw movement in the shadows. Her whole body tensed a moment, whirling quickly to see just what had moved. Everything was well-lit in this part of town, but that didn’t mean her heart paused in its hammering, or her palms didn’t suddenly feel clammy at the prospect of being a woman alone at night. Not even Wayhaven could be <em>that </em>safe, despite everything that tried to remind her that this was one of those places where bad things didn’t happen.</p>
<p>Tell that to the woman who was just found murdered today, though.</p>
<p>She swallowed, her phone in a death grip as she raised her voice. “If anyone’s following me, I’d stop! I’m armed and I won’t hesitate!” All bald-faced lies, but Clare wasn’t going to admit that aloud. She let out a few uneven breaths, the air condensing around her in puffs of smoke, her whole body jerking when a twig snapped to the side and-</p>
<p>A rabbit scurried across the path, a blur of movement that had Clare giving a small yelp, her backward steps nearly toppling her to the ground. A bubble of hysterical laughter flew from her lips, almost certain she might simply collapse with relief.</p>
<p>“Just a silly little bunny, Clare,” she told herself, pivoting on her feet, taking greater strides with each step home. “Nothing to fret about. You’re nearly home and then we can stop being so jumpy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>There was something delectable and sweet about the air as Murphy’s lips curled in interest. A pretty snack, but he had other things to take care of. Each step he took propelled him away from the town, up the hills and towards the prize.</p>
<p>He’d been watching her all day, his hunger growing with each beat of her heart in his ears. And now he knew his patience would pay off, following her scent up to the crumbling warehouse that overlooked town. All he had to do was get the jump on her and then he’d be golden.</p>
<p>Murphy paused, eyes narrowed as he sniffed the incoming breeze. Anticipation hadn’t been his friend, hiding the fact that he wasn’t alone up here. His lip curled into a sneer, eyes flitting from the woods behind him and then back to the detective as she exited her car.</p>
<p>The hunt was on; no matter the challenge he faced now, he couldn’t let Laurel Jones slip from his fingers.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hang on, I’m sorry, but you <em>discharged your gun</em> last night?” Eyes wide, coffee in hand, Tina gaped at Laurel the next morning at the station. </p><p>“I gave them a warning,” Laurel grumbled, frowning at the malfunctioning coffee maker. Her fist connected with the side, hoping, briefly, that maybe a shock to the system would shake it back to working. The coffee wasn’t exactly top notch, but it got the job done when this thing was working properly.</p><p>“Was it really necessary to go to the warehouse that late?” Tina’s concern was touching and Laurel shot her a very small smile.</p><p>“It’s fine. I just don’t like people getting the jump on me like that.” It was <em>more</em> than that, though, but Laurel didn’t want to linger on what could have happened. The Captain would tell her that was a reckless move, going on her own to check things out at Farris &amp; Sons, and maybe he would have been right. </p><p>“At least I got some evidence to bring to Verda.” Sighing as she finally gave up trying to make the machine work, Laurel reached into her pocket of her jacket, waving the little bag of evidence she’d collected from the scene. Tina frowned and wrinkled her nose when she realized what it was.</p><p>“Jeez, is that <em>blood</em>?” Her nose wrinkled at it and then looked back up at Laurel. “Is this from-”</p><p>“From the scene, at least. Not sure who it belongs to though,” Laurel couldn’t help but feel at least a little smug over that. “I figure we can run it through the system, see if it pings any matches. That would at least narrow the search down just a bit.” The idea of trying to comb through the town, not to mention weeding her way through any out of towners, didn’t exactly seem appealing to her. One of the few parts of her job she didn’t like; if she could hit something or outrun it, that was great, but lord help anyone who she had to question.</p><p>Tina nodded, following Laurel’s train of thought. “I’ll keep an ear out on patrol, see if anyone else knows something.” In a town this size, it was often more a matter of <em>when</em> not <em>if</em> gossip made its way through the grapevine. </p><p>“Thanks, Tina, I’ll owe you.”</p><p>“Nothing to owe, Laurel, you know that.”</p><p>Laurel couldn’t help but chuckle, nodding as she turned away. “Fine, but when you decide to come collect, I’m going to remind you of your words.” Tina’s laugh followed Laurel as she moved down the hall, making a beeline for Verda’s lab downstairs.</p><p>The closer she got, however, the louder Verda’s voice seemed to get. Well, the louder <em>two</em> voices seemed to get. Frowning as she got to his door, she paused a moment to peek through the window, almost swearing aloud when she saw who was in there.</p><p>“My god, this is <em>delicious</em>!” Seated at his computer, Verda was beaming up at Clare, who glowed like the goddamn sun with joy at the words. “What did you say this is?”</p><p>“Sticky toffee bread. Oh, and there’s a little cream cheese frosting, too.” Clutching a thermos that Laurel already knew was tea, her half-sister turned quickly as the door clicked behind Laurel. “Oh! Laurel, I was just on my way up-”</p><p>“I’ve got something for you to run.” Laurel barreled forward, holding the bag out for Verda to take. </p><p>“All business, as you can see,” Verda shot Clare a wink, which made her giggle. Laurel was less than impressed, the frown on her face deepening. “Detective Jones, you never mentioned anything about a sister.”</p><p>“Half-sister,” It was Clare who interjected this and, when Laurel glanced her way, dropped her gaze, fiddling with the thermos in her hands. “We didn’t spend a lot of time together as kids, but I suppose that’s changing.” It was then that Laurel was able to take in Clare, decked in lavender scrubs, a large bag slung over her shoulder, hair tied back and a badge for the local hospital hanging from the front of her top.</p><p>“When did you get a job <em>here</em>?” More like Laurel wanted to know why Clare had uprooted herself from the fancy apartment in New York City to take a job in a small town even further away from her other family.</p><p>“I tried to tell you last night,” Clare shifted in place, lips pressing into a firm line. “You didn’t give me the chance.”</p><p>Laurel pressed her fingers along the bridge of her nose. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t lying when I said I was busy.”</p><p>“No, but you didn’t bother giving me the time of day.” Clare sighed, glancing to the watch along her wrist. “I’d better go, I don’t want to be late.” She swooped in, pressing a quick kiss to each of Verda’s cheeks, all smiles when she looked at him. “I’ll get you the recipe, promise!”</p><p>There was a moment when she hesitated and Laurel tensed, hoping Clare didn’t try to offer the same farewell to her. “Here, this is for you.” Offering a small container with what Laurel assumed was the sweets she’d offered to Verda, Clare awkwardly gave a small wave and vanished, squeezing past Laurel and heading back towards the lobby. Only when the door closed did Laurel let go of the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.</p><p>“So, you going to fill me in on why you’ve never mentioned her or-” Verda began and Laurel gave a grumbling sigh in response.</p><p>“It’s complicated, alright?” Laurel muttered, glancing to the container and then back to Verda with a frown. Explaining her family never felt comfortable to Laurel; honestly, with Rebecca out of the picture most of the time and her father dead, there wasn’t much left to say about them. “She’s a couple years younger than me and got to live with her grandparents. I’m pretty sure the posh accent-” which Laurel briefly tried to replicate, terribly, “-gives away just how different she and I are.”</p><p>“That’s a shame,” Verda replied, taking the evidence bag Laurel thrust back in his space. “She seems really lovely.”</p><p>“At least one of us is.” Laurel sighed, trying and failing to avoid rolling her eyes. “Listen, as much as I’d love to discuss Clare, I need this run as soon as you can. This could be the thing to break this case open.” Now it felt personal; Laurel could only assume that shooting someone did that handily.</p><p>“I’ll run it now, Detective.”</p><p>“You’re my favorite pathologist, have I mentioned that lately?” Despite the gruffness she’d initially given him when he first joined the department, Laurel truly did like Verda. Plus he had a nice family, the kind Laurel would have killed for when she was younger. </p><p>“I’m your only pathologist, Laurel.” Verda shot a wry grin back at her, waving his hands to shoo her out. “Now, if I’m going to make progress, you have a job to do other than stand guard over my progress.”</p><p>“Fine, fine,” Laurel lifted her hands in faux-surrender, the playfulness vanishing after a moment. “Find me when you have results?” His nod was all the confirmation she needed. One more step and they’d be that much closer to another clue in this case.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>Once again, that hadn’t gone well. Clare kicked herself internally, already listing everything she had very obviously done wrong in that meeting. Appearing out of the blue, once again, wasn’t something Laurel seemed overly fond of and Clare quietly marked that from her list of ‘acceptable behaviors when dealing with your estranged half-sister’ list she felt was running in her head constantly.</p><p>She wanted to get this <em>right</em>, not screw it up off the bat.</p><p>Rummaging through her bag as she checked that she had everything, she stepped out the doors of the station…</p><p>...only to run face-first into a cloud of thick cigarette smoke.</p><p>Clare gave a wheezing cough, her eyes stinging at the heavy menthol and tobacco that permeated the air. “Oh, for-” she cut herself off before she could let loose as many curses as she could think of. “You can’t smoke in front of the bloody doors, it’s a public health concern!” Ready to deal out damage without swearing, Clare turned sharply to shoot a glowering look at the person causing this lung-damaging screen of smoke.</p><p>Her heart gave a shuddering lurch, caught in the haze of storm grey eyes and a glower to match her own. He was leaning against the concrete pillar, a smoke in hand, his own gaze watching her with what she could only describe as curiosity or annoyance. And, just as quickly, lifted the cigarette back to his mouth, blowing a smoke ring after the embers had flared to life again.</p><p>“Mason,” There was a warning in the tone of another man, making Clare start. Wait, had there been two of them there the whole time? “I apologize for my friend here. He’d never been good at following rules.” Towering over her, the second man gave a friendly smile, all the while reaching blindly to pluck the cigarette from this Mason fellow’s hands.</p><p>“Oh, uh, yeah,” Clare felt awkward as the words tumbled from her mouth. “I mean, it’s really against the law, and he’s tempting fate by smoking directly before the police station.”</p><p>“That’s a fair point, <em>wouldn’t you agree</em>, Mason?” </p><p>Mason’s gaze slid back over to Clare, who held it firmly. Slowly, he took another drag, letting the smoke billow from his lips, before squashing the embers out against the pillar. “I was just finishing up anyway.” </p><p>Clare gave a small huff of annoyance. “Well you really shouldn’t smoke to begin with,” she replied tartly. “It’ll kill you where you stand.” His barking laugh gave her another small start, her eyes wide as she watched a mirthless smirk slide across his mouth. “What’s so funny?”</p><p>“Nothing.” It didn’t feel like nothing, but Clare pressed her lips together, holding back any sort of reply that would only further goad him along.</p><p>“I’m Nate,” His friend reached a hand out and Clare blinked, turning to take it with a very quick shake. “I don’t mean to pry, but you don’t sound like you’re from around here?” It was asked as a question, but Clare knew it was almost impossible to hide her accent from sticking out like a sore thumb in the states.</p><p>“A lucky guess,” Clare joked, her heart doing a little swoop as Nate graced her with another beaming smile. “I just moved here, on some advice from my mother.”</p><p>“You have family here?” Nate asked; Clare wasn’t always up for speaking at length about her family, but there was just something about this man in front of her that made it almost easy to let go of those barriers.</p><p>“A sister,” Clare blurted quickly, pausing to correct herself. “Half-sister, and my mum said she’d be working out of here for a while.” She shrugged her shoulders half-heartedly. “We’ll see how it all works out, I guess?” </p><p>“Family can be complicated,” Nate agreed, appearing the talkative one out of the two standing there. “Does your sister work here?”</p><p>“She’s their only detective.” Clare paused, frowning, the strangeness of this slipping through her fingers like water. “Anyways, I really should head to work.” A glance to her watch had her inwardly cursing; she’d have to go over the speed limit to make it on time. “It was nice meeting you?”</p><p>“Yes, it was lovely chatting. I hope we see you around.” Nate gave a cheerful wave, while Mason barely gave a jerking nod of his head to her. </p><p>Smiling, though unsure what had just happened, Clare turned and broke into a jog to reach her car. Nate she definitely wouldn’t mind seeing around, but Mason she could do without.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“We hope to see you around?” Mason gave a scoffing grunt, rolling his eyes once Agent Bishop’s other daughter vanished into her car. “We’re here for work, Nate, not a social visit.”</p><p>Nate didn’t respond right away, his brown eyes gazing into some unknown distance that only he could see. “Did you know Agent Bishop had another daughter?” He asked, genuinely curious as he turned to glance down at Mason.</p><p>“Nope.” And it wasn’t any of his business either, he thought, fingers itching to light up another smoke. It was easy to get lost in the swirl of emotions that ran high when they spent too much time around humans; they were fragile things with feelings that always crowded outside the limits of their own bodies. It was always too loud but, with tobacco in hand, he found at least some relief in each pull he took.</p><p>There was a pause as Mason added, “She’s...something, though, I’ll give her that.” Even with the preaching, he couldn’t deny that there was beauty in her big blue eyes and the fullness of her mouth. </p><p>“Mason, I don’t need you telling me about your attraction to Agent Bishop’s daughter!”</p><p>“Prude,” Mason sneered, tempted to go on, but he stopped himself. As much fun as it was to rile the old-fashioned romantic Nate was, he wasn’t in the mood. “I mean it, though,” he added, his tone just a little lower. “Something about her seemed…” Light, he thought, but that didn’t make much sense to say aloud. “Not our problem, either way.”</p><p>“Ah, well,” Nate frowned, shrugging briefly. “I’d hoped this would be an easy job.” They had already had a run-in with Detective Jones the night before and Mason held back a snigger at the shock that had colored their leader’s face when Jones had pulled the trigger on him. </p><p>“It’s just a job,” Mason leaned away from the pillar, taking care to toss the end of his cigarette in the trash - yeah, he was punk and didn’t like rules, but he wasn’t a complete asshole, especially when it came to littering. “We’ve done harder things before than keep watch over some girl.”</p><p>“But this is two-” Nate began, Mason swiftly cutting his comrade off at the quick.</p><p>“We’re meeting with Detective Jones later, she’s the only one we have to actually concern ourselves with.” Thank god, he thought, glancing at the empty spot where her sister’s car had been. “We’ll be here a month, tops, and then we can get back to something more exciting.” As it were, this felt like too small a job for a team of their caliber, but Mason wasn’t about to admit that aloud.</p><p>“We should probably take another turn around town,” Nate said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I swear, I saw a darling bakery down the street-” </p><p>As Nate prattled on, Mason followed quietly, cloaking himself again in smoke, shutting down the rising emotions that flitted around them. The bitter, burning tang let those feelings die before he could feel them; the sooner they left this town, the better.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In retrospect, Adam knew he should have kept an open mind about this new mission. Agent Bishop wouldn’t have brought them here if she didn’t have a good reason; a reason he realized quickly the night before, that was founded on <em>something </em>rather than just a feeling. His lip curled of its own accord, his thoughts drifting back to the confrontation at the old warehouse. </p><p><em> Why in the world was </em>she <em>there? </em></p><p>It was foolish and reckless to investigate dangers alone, yet Detective Jones had apparently thrown caution out the window last night. He’d been surprised to see her there, but nothing compared to the shock of being shot by the woman he now knew he had to keep safe. Thankfully, there was no true damage done; he wasn't so easily killed, though his pride had taken a hit instead.</p><p>It wasn’t just that a human had gotten one over him that quickly, or that he’d ignored the signs that she was indeed capable of shooting him. Rather, Adam couldn’t shake the strange feeling that knotted his stomach and made his heart flip when their eyes met in the darkness. She may not have seen their faces, but he had seen hers with perfect clarity.</p><p>At that moment, there was no time to admire her (though he would never admit to that impulse) for they had other pressing matters to take care of. There wasn’t room to be some twitterpated idiot. He assumed he had simply been caught off-guard, the emotions rising with wild uncertainty a fluke from some form of jetlag that he must have picked up on their flight here.</p><p>But now?</p><p>It was hard to remain inconspicuous, watching as Agent Bishop strolled into the police station. “Give me a moment,” she’d said with a small, strained smile. “You’ll know when to come in.” Carte blanche, in a way, to eavesdrop just a bit, though Adam would never call it that. He was keeping tabs on things, his heightened senses tuning into the world inside the local station.</p><p>Wayhaven was ordinary in a completely mundane way. He could hear fingers against keyboards, murmured voices that he ignored as simply background noise, the harsh metallic clanging that nearly startled him backward. What a surprise, he thought almost sarcastically, realizing quickly that it had been the detective making all that noise. There didn’t seem to be a quiet bone in her body, not with the way she’d trampled across the warehouse floors last night or shouted to get their attention before she <em>shot </em>him.</p><p>“Mum?” the Detective sounded surprised, the clanging coming to a very quick halt as Adam assumed Rebecca had entered the room. “What are you doing here?” Was that uncertainty in her tone? Maybe an ounce of mistrust? </p><p>His handler had been clear, without saying it outright, that her relationship with her daughter wasn’t ideal. She had kept much of her past carefully locked away from sight, but Adam had picked up on a few things while they had worked together. Not that any of it was his business, keeping his face passive, pausing in his missive as Felix broke the silence.</p><p>“Can we go in now?” The otherworldly vampire gave a blindingly toothy grin, already appearing out of place before they’d even begun their job. Adam tried not to sigh; it wasn’t Felix’s fault that he sometimes (read: almost all the time) stuck out like a sore thumb. Adam could appreciate the beauty of the former Echo realm resident, with dark skin and golden eyes that seemed to draw attention wherever they’d gone in their years of working together. </p><p>However, his impatience was something Adam had difficulty with, and even that felt like he was putting it lightly. </p><p>“I’ll let you know, Felix,” Adam replied in a clipped, curt tone that his fellows were used to. Had he ever truly been that young before? It felt like a lifetime and a half ago, the memories of who had been before buried deep within the dust and cobwebs of his mind. Easier to forget and move on instead of lingering on the bitterness and broken promises of youth.</p><p>“It won’t be long now,” Nate offered as Felix sighed, flopping against the pillar outside the building. Ever the peacekeeper, Nate showed a far softer side to leadership that Adam knew he lacked. </p><p>No one was perfect, but all four of them made a pretty good facsimile as their strengths and weaknesses worked together and flowed with only a few hitches now and again. It was why they’d been brought together, Adam thought, glad that he could trust and understand the other vampires in his care with his life.</p><p>Shaking his head, Adam tilted his head ever so slightly to the front doors, picking up the tail-end of the conversation between mother and daughter. “I can handle my own investigation, Rebecca,” the Detective snapped and Adam knew it was time for them to make their debut. Rebecca would explain as best she could, all without saying aloud what was actually happening. </p><p>Humans outside the scope of the Agency were prone to hysterics and panic when faced with the unknown. It was better that her daughter simply understood that this was too big for their small town department to handle properly than tell her there was a crazed vampire on the loose who wanted her for some nefarious plan that they hadn’t quite deduced just yet.</p><p>“You’ll be utilizing my team,” Adam tried not to smile at the pride on their handler’s tone, a point of pride taken from the trust she had with them. “Unit Bravo.”</p><p>Adam took lead, quietly stepping through the door, as he and his team filed into the office. He knew how it probably looked: four handsome man crowding into any space didn’t quite keep curious eyes from falling on them. There was no true ego in that thought, rather a fact that the four of them were preternaturally attractive in ways the human mind grappled with.</p><p>(Not that he’d admit it aloud.)</p><p>Agent Bishop’s voice turned to background noise the moment his eyes slid over to meet the Detective’s. His heart stuttered in his chest, a strange knot twisting deep in his stomach as he straightened, holding his hands tightly behind his back. </p><p>
  <em> Christ, she’s lovely. </em>
</p><p>There was no denying the resemblance between the women as he slid his gaze back and forth surreptitiously. Bishop’s hair was long with soft streaks of white against the fading blonde; the Detective’s dark blonde hair was cut at her chin, a few flyaway strands grazing across her eyes as she turned to look all of them over in turn.</p><p>“Detective,” Adam tilted his head slightly in greeting, pushing back against the warmth that had very suddenly seeped into his heart, cooling every nerve that fired through his body. Her dark brown eyes narrowed at his voice, and Adam swore internally. She <em> had </em>heard them speak last night, could she put two and two together?</p><p>Nonsense, he thought as he straightened his shoulders. There was no way she could have seen any of them; and, even if she had suspicions, she’d be looking for someone with a gunshot wound, something Adam was missing.</p><p>“So, am I supposed to call you Thing 1 and Thing 2 or…?” There was no softness to her face as Laurel crossed her arms, leaning against the edge of her desk. Instead, Adam caught a glimmer of hesitation, something he knew he couldn't fault her for.</p><p>Even as her mother launched into introductions, Adam kept his gaze on Laurel, stiffening unintentionally as she stared right back at him with eyes so dark, he swore he could drown in them.</p><p>Adam swallowed against the intrusive thought, pushing hard and fast against any others. They were here for a job and, no matter what feelings had sprouted in his chest, it would be easier to destroy the weeds rather than let them make any sort of home there. His job was to keep Laurel safe, no matter what, especially in the face of an enemy of this caliber. They had a picture and an understanding, in a way, what their villain was racing around doing, but no clues as to where he might be.</p><p>The location of their villain, however, seemed the least of their problems as Laurel hissed to her mother. “Can I have a moment with you?” She paused, glancing at all of them standing there, adding with emphasis. “<em> Alone </em>?”</p><p>“Surprise, surprise,” Mason drawled as the women left the room, playing with his lighter, the flame sputtering to life and then snuffing back out in turn. “I doubt the detective is going to play nicely with us.”</p><p>Adam frowned, letting out a huffing breath. “That doesn’t change anything.” He meant it, even as he tried not to continue eavesdropping in on the angry exchange happening just beyond the walls of this little office. “We have a job to do and, until we’re told otherwise, we’re here to see it through.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Were you going to tell me about any of this?” Laurel didn’t have time to mask her feelings, anger bleeding from all sides as she pulled her mother into the small kitchenette. The damned coffee maker was still broken, and Laurel was halfway tempted to throw her fist against the metal siding again; this time not to make it work, but to try and release the pressure that was building at an alarming rate.</p><p>“We just got into town-” Rebecca began, but Laurel hurried to cut her off at the pass.</p><p>“Oh, don’t use your work voice on me, <em>Rebecca</em>, I’m not someone you need to pacify.” There was something twisted in her stomach, watching, with a little guilt and some sense of smugness, as her mother’s face crumpled just a little. It serves her right, Laurel thought, arms crossed against her chest. There were bigger things at stake now, and she didn’t need her mother coming in to handle her.</p><p>“Were you even going to tell me you were coming?” Laurel asked after a moment. </p><p>“I tried calling,” Rebecca replied, her own tone firming up, her stance mirroring Laurel’s. If there was any doubt of where Laurel got this, it vanished in an instant. “You didn’t pick up.”</p><p>“And yet you somehow decided to tell Clare soon enough to have her move halfway across the country?” That stung more than Laurel wanted to admit. “I get it, you have a big-shot job and go all over the place, but you didn’t even leave a fucking-”</p><p>“<em>Language</em>, Laurel!”</p><p>“A <em> fucking </em>-” Laurel continued through gritted teeth. “-message would have been enough. But you didn’t even bother.”</p><p>“I know I didn’t do this right,” Rebecca sighed, her shoulders sagging a bit before Laurel. “I know this isn’t what you want, but I assure you, I’m not here to make your life harder.” She paused and Laurel caught a strange look go across her mother’s face. “I’d hoped we might spend time together while I’m here. All three of us.”</p><p>Laurel tried not to let her nails dig into her palms, failing as she felt the sting and knew there would be crescent-shaped marks when she unclenched them. “I don’t know how that would make anything better.”</p><p>“I’m <em> trying</em>, Laurel.” Rebecca moved, a hand reaching out to stroke away a strand of dark blonde hair away from her eldest daughter’s face. Laurel frowned, leaning away from the touch quickly, putting distance between them once again. Hurt flashed across Rebecca’s face again, but this time Laurel felt no guilt.</p><p><em> Good</em>. There were too many bad memories here, bad blood from birthdays missed, plans cancelled and a neverending rotation of caregivers coming in and out of Laurel’s life. No one stayed and she barely believed Rebecca would be staying long this time.</p><p>“I have work to do,” Laurel’s tone was cold and clipped, dropping her gaze to the floor and then back up to her mother. There was the same cold professionalism that Laurel knew; perhaps that’s where she’d gotten her own barbs to begin with, but she shoved that thought back hard and fast. The only thing that linked them was biology, and even that felt like a flimsy excuse to get her hopes up time and time again.</p><p>“Of course.” Rebecca kept her distance, the hurt fading from sight. “You’ll find Unit Bravo is exceptional at their jobs. I know, with all of us working on this, we’ll catch this killer.”</p><p>“One can only hope.” Laurel paused, awkwardly trying to figure out just where they went from here. Thank god, though, she was saved as Rebecca’s phone began to ring.</p><p>“I should-” Rebecca began as Laurel’s own voice rose up.</p><p>“Maybe I’ll just-” </p><p>The women stared at one another for a moment longer before clearing her throat, Laurel turned away first. She didn’t need to look back, already hearing the soft tones of her mother’s phone voice fading as she left the kitchenette.</p><p>Four pairs of eyes were trained on her the moment she stepped back into the office. Shifting and trying to ignore the discomfort she felt, Laurel sighed. “Right, let me catch you all up on this.”</p><p>Maybe this would be fine, she thought, sitting back down in her desk chair. More eyes could mean this was solved faster. But that meant trusting the men standing in this room with her, something Laurel knew was going to take time. “Let’s begin with our victim.”</p>
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